The quiet grounds of the 2017 Walk for Reconciliation at the Expo Site, Strathcona Park, Vancouver BC September 24, 2017

On September 24th I volunteered to help out Reconciliation Canada with the Walk for Reconciliation that was taking place in Vancouver. The work and goals of the Truth and Reconciliation commission has become very important to me, and although none of us can do everything, all of us can do something. Volunteering that day seemed like something that I could do.

I headed out from home early, as I had to catch the 7am ferry to be able to get there on time. I felt courageous and brave as I headed into downtown Vancouver by myself for the first time. I also felt tired. I'd had a couple of heavy weeks with hosting company, preparing for another trip back to Manitoba for Orange Shirt Day, and helping my presenting partner and adopted son Trem with some of the grief that continues to have a hold on him in the years since my son's passing. I was tired, but I was also very excited.

​I arrived at the grounds of the event about an hour before the walkers were to arrive at the site. I'd been assigned to support the survivors and elders in the tent set up for them. Our role was to ensure they were offered something to eat and drink, be a listening ear if it was needed, and to support them in whatever way would be most meaningful to them.

Having a bit of time before hand, I had the chance to see the beautiful collection of rocks that had been painted by school children from across the country as gifts to be given to survivors. They were decorated with words, pictures and colours of hope. They were beautiful.

Reconciliation Canada Rock painting for reconciliation project. Rocks were later gifted to Survivors and Elders.

​I also got to explore some of the tents that were set up providing information, food, artwork, among other things. However, it wasn't long before the people started making their way to the tent I was stationed at, and the work of the day began.

Watching the hundreds, in fact thousands of people that streamed in to the grounds as the walk concluded left me with a lump in my heart. All these people who had experienced what we are only now learning about, and have carried the pain of that experience for decades. It was so hard to come to terms with the reality of our country’s historical treatment of our First People. There is so much work still to be done, but at least the work is beginning

Two Elders/Survivors waiting for the walkers to arrive and the ceremony to begin.

Throughout the day I had the great honor of serving and listening to the stories of many of those people while the festivities, honoring and presentations of voice and music resounded all about us. There was wisdom in the speakers and performers, and passion in the audience. Passion to recognize, celebrate and find understanding. It was a powerful event for everyone that attended.

Throughout the day, in one corner of the tent, a couple offered cedar brushing to anyone who asked for it. I watched, not really understanding the ceremony, but interested in learning, and at the end of the day, when most of the elders had left, I had my chance. I knew I was experiencing something incredible when he told me that the grief I was carrying was what was causing my throat to be so sore. I hadn't said anything about it, nor was it affecting my communication. It was just a deep ache that I'd experienced for a couple of days by that time. I realized this stranger who was offering his healing medicine had read through my words into my tired spirit. He offered comfort and support as he swept away some of the burden I'd not truly realized I was carrying. He kindly explained the process and the beliefs it represented. In giving of myself that day I received such a gift in return.

He also reminded me that the teachers that I've been gifted to have in my life throughout the years were with me still, whether they were in the spirit world or this one. It was such a powerful experience for me, and the most wonderful ending to the day.

Driving home that night I was incredibly happy that I'd made the effort and been offered the opportunity to participate in something so amazing. I am not naive. I know reconciliation is going to take years of work and a lifetime of effort on the part of all people involved. None of us can to everything to fix what is so broken in Canada today, but I was reminded that each of us can do something, if we so choose. I thought of the many stories that had been shared with me. People giving away small pieces of who they are and what they'd experienced so that the rest of us could learn and grow from that. I thought of the resilience of the people I'd been with, and appreciated how incredibly strong their spirits must be. I know that in their having shared those small pieces of who they are, they made me a better person. I know in the offering, I was the one who was gifted. I hope each of you get the opportunity to experience that as this work continues in the many forms we will see it take in the years ahead. ​With love,

For the whole of my life I have been a learner. A learner and a reader, and I'm glad that as time has gone on, that has not changed. What bothers me is that as a 'learner', there is so much that I am only now beginning to understand and begin to try and make sense of. So many things that I, like the rest of society, should have been learning much earlier in our lives. If we had maybe today our world would be less of a mess. I often worry that our learning is coming too late and too little, with so many people locked into their skewed ideas and belief systems. Even so, I write this with the hope that maybe one person's heart may be challenged to take a different view of things, and nudge our world one more step forward and closer to the place where we can all have more open minds and open hearts to the journey of another.

To be clear, I have no knowledge of any First Nations geneology in my family lines and my perspective and views do not come with the life experience that many of my friends have lived. My ancestry is as Irish and as Scottish as you can get. But that does not keep me for having a love for other people and a thirst for information that will help me to better understand my world, so that I can pass that understanding along to others. I do believe that our society is past the point where it is okay to turn a blind eye to what has been created. We can believe there might have been good intentions, but we can't ignore that whatever the intention was, the outcome is bad. One way or another we need to lean into that and start growing forward. For me that means to listen, talk, read and learn and work towards having a better understanding so that I might become a better advocate and a better person as a result.

Last night, I finished my reading of the book 'Black Elk Speaks'. It took my a long time to get to the book in it's entirety, but for a long time I have been fascinated and drawn to his words and his wisdom. Nicholas Black Elk (1863-1950) has been working to get my attention for a long time it seems, through so many coincidences and experiences in life. But when we're ready, the teacher does arrive. This teacher died in 1950, but fortunately for our world, he opened his heart and shared his wisdom.

The book was originally published in the early 1930s, after Black Elk met with John G. Neihardt, the author, on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. His intent was to share his powerful and inspirational experiences and message to all that would be open to them. During their time together, he relayed the stories from his earliest memories as a boy in th 1860s through to the Massacre at Wounded Knee in 1890, and the final efforts of his people to maintain their freedom and their way of life. He was a warrior, a hunter, a medicine man and a healer who lived his life in an effort to move ever closer to the vision he had experienced as a young boy of 9. He shared his visions in the book, trusting that John would pass them along to a world that needed to know and understand what he had seen. He did this at a time when it was not common for a man of his stature to talk about those things with a stranger, but Black Elk felt the deep need for that message to be shared and so he did.

Through his story, we are given an opportunity to see that horrific time period through the eyes of those who lived on the receiving end of the decisions being made to secure the United States as a nation. A story that is very much the same as our own story in Canada, with it's brutality, battles and manipulation. Black Elk shares his memories of what the First People were experiencing throughout those years of Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, Custard and the army's continued movement west. It is a much different perspective from what we are taught by history books.

He tells the reader about many of the horrible battles that took place between the Indigenous people and the soldiers. One of the paragraphs that haunted me really made me think about the things we see happening today, in 2016, at Standing Rock. "Wherever we went, the soldiers came to kill us, and it was all our own country. It was ours already when the Wasichus (white man) made the treaty with Red Cloud that said it would be ours as long as the grass should grow and the water flow. That was only eight winters before, and they were chasing us now because we remembered and they forgot." (pg 83)

The book is full of the broken promises and broken dreams of a people who were forced to bend to the ways of the invading world, and reading it, I couldn't help but see the role that is still playing in what is happening around our continent today, but most noticibly with with what is happening at Standing Rock. As he talks about the treaty agreements that were made by a few on behalf of the many, treaties and agreements that pushed them further and further from the land and the life they had known he relays "only crazy or very foolish men would sell their Mother Earth. Sometimes I think it might have been better if we had stayed together and made them kill us all." The people lived through heartbreak after heartbreak as he shares stories of the battles, the hunger, the massacres, the Ghost Dances and the broken promises.

After the Massacre at Wounded Knee, when the people gave up their fight he was quoted as saying "I did not know then how much was ended. When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And i can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was burried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream. " pg 169

Black Elk died believing that he had not accomplished what the Grandfathers had set out for him to do. He never saw his people regain the footing lost or their old way of life, traditions and spiritual belief systems reestablished. What he had visioned for his people was not possible in the world that had been created and with the restrictions that were placed on our Indigenous people, throughout North America.

But I wondered, as I read through it, if Black Elk wasn't also fortelling of some of what is happening today? His vision fortold of the days ahead, the disappearance of the buffalo herds, of the 'black road' that his people would be forced to walk. But it also fortold of a day when "I saw that the sacred hoop of my people was one of many hoops that made one circle, wide as daylight and as starlight, and in the center grew one mighty flowering tree to shelter all the children of one Mother and one Father. And I saw that it was holy." (pg 26)

As I look at the gatherings that are happening in Standing Rock to support the people who are fighting for their water, I begin to wonder if that gathering may be part of what Black Elk envisioned? People from all tribes, faiths and races coming to stand for the common goal of preserving and fighting for what is here, before everything is gone. People starting to take notice and realize the wisdom that was embedded in the beliefs that lived here long before my ancestors arrived.

From the book 'Black Elk Speaks'

My heart aches for the old man who returned to the place of his vision one last time. "Hear me, not for myself, but for my people; I am old. Hear me that they may once more go back into the sacred hoop and find the good red road, the shielding tree." (pg 172)

It has been a slow resurgence, but I believe it is beginning to happen. Idle no More, people saying no to the big corporations, our commitment to the Truth and Reconciliation work. Change is in the works, and the winds have shifted direction. And from the Voice of Black Elk's vision, "Behold this day, for it is yours to make." So I ask, what are you going to do?

Cecil and I enjoying one of the many waterways throughout the region between Florence and Pisa, Italy.

Started the day with a morning tour of the Florence Museum. I am so glad that we did! There we had the chance to see some of the most amazing work of Michelangelo. His David was there, as well as a collection known as 'the prisoners', which were a series of sculptures he was working on that had been commissioned by the Pope of the time. When the commission was cancelled, Michelangelo stopped his work on them and never picked it up again, so the series was never completed, but was truly remarkable! To be able to see the rough, unfinished markings on the stone from which the art was being extracted was amazing.
Our tour guide, Giovanni, continued with us and showed us the Cathedral, the squares, the statues and the political center. We eventually ended up at the square of the church where Michelangelo and Leonardo DiVinci are laid to rest. I believe it was calledBasilica of Santa Croce. although I am not 100% certain, and in looking it up, I read DiVinci was laid to rest elsewhere, so I may have misunderstood. Doesn't matter, it was all breath-taking!
After an hour of lunch and shopping, and a lot of rain...but it was time to head to Pisa. The ride was about an hour long, and as we arrived there, the rain started to let up a bit. We were told we'd be taking a train from the bus parking lot to the town center, and when we arrived a little 'MacDonalds' train was waiting for us. It was quite cute, and good for a laugh.
Pisa was remarkable. The tower was what took us there, but the entire center was amazing from the Baptismal, to the Cathedral and finally the tower. It was the first place where we were able to take pictures of the entire inside of the buildings, so it was great to be able to capture some of what we've been able to see and not record before. We had about an hour during which time we found some more wine corks for our collection, met a peddlar from Kenya who gave me a coral turtle for some reason, which is beautiful, but I don't really understand the reason for. Maybe he just recognized me as being from Turtle Island.
We ran into Betty Ann and Mike from Niagara Falls, and had a drink with them. Great people, and a great opportunity to get to know them just a little bit better.
When we returned to the hotel, prior to dinner, we went down for a drink and got the names of all the people that we've been chatting to but haven't met before. Paul, Di, Elly, Debbie, Sara, Kate, Sally, Lee....all from Australia or New Zealand. Very cool! Very friendly, and very welcoming!
Dinner was good again, not as good as the night before I don't think. We started with lasagna, followed by a main course of potato, spinach and I think pork. For dessert we got a bowl of fruit to share amongst our group of six. That was different! We finished our dinner and headed up to our room, both very tired. It can be exhausting living your dream while wide awake! At the end of most days, I can hardly even believe that we are here still, and seeing all that we're seeing!

Great day, but long and busy. We were up and going shortly after 6am to get packed and head over to the Hotel Diana to leave on our 4 day tour. The last legs of our journey through Italy, heading north to eventually end up in Venice.

We got going out of Rome about 8 am, after loading all the tour participants from 3 or 4 different hotels, 37 folks in all. After about an hour, we had a pit stop at a little roadside cafe that looked like it had the most amazing pastry. Sadly I wasn't ready to eat any more after having had the hotel breakfast prior to leaving. I still regret that missed opportunity, it looked so good!Our first stop was at Assisi where we had the opportunity to tour St Francis Basilica. We had the opportunity tour of both the chapel and the crypt where he is buried. It's amazing to see the response of dedicated Catholics at his tomb, almost 900 years after his death. I was truly moved by their passion and love for the man.

Horse and rider in the gardens of St Francis Basilica, Assisi

We ate lunch at a great little restaurant in town, then carried on where our next stop was Siena.

There we had a 20 minute walk to get to the Middle Ages town square, and had another hour or so to tour and relax. We decided not to go to the museum, instead enjoying our time in the square, taking pictures and exploring the courthouse. Finding wine corks representing the area to add to our collection, we went and had a couple of drinks at a cafe that offered free wifi. Deciding to have a bite to eat there, we ordered an appetizer that we assumed to be a 'fondue' of some sort, based on the name 'fondue' but what we got was a plate with arugula lettuce covered by some mild meat, maybe pastrami, with some cheese melted on. It wasn't what I'd expected, and the dish didn't do anything for me, but the bread they served with it was great. Nice, white crusty bread. Another reminder that we should have learned more Italian!Upon leaving Siena we carried on for our first night's destination as we headed on to Florence.

Got up good and early, feeling that the sooner we got going, the more we might see. We hadn't even got across the street when a young woman selling tickets for the hop on/hop off tours managed to grab us. It was what we'd already made the decision would make the most sense to us, so we got started by 9, being jostled by dozens of other tourists waiting for the buses. Why did I ever think I was the only one that might want to tour Rome? Our first stop was the Colosseum, where we decided to sign up for a tour by someone who could explain it all to us. It was absolutely amazing to be standing in what's left of the building where its estimated 700,000 people lost their lives in the 400 years it was actively used. What was most amazing, that most of those lives were sacrificed in the name of entertainment. What a structure for what was available 2000 years ago. It was amazing to see and walk through. As we were waiting for the second tour to start, the folks we were touring with began to gather, and I heard one of the fellows say he was from Brandon, Manitoba! Talking to some girls from Calgary! To come so far away and be bumping into people that live an hour away! Crazy! The tour included a later tour of the birthplace of Rome, the Forum and the place where Caesar was murdered. We were walked through the area by a man named Paul who originally came form Denver, Colorado. He'd been in Rome 13 years, studying the history of the birthplace of civilization, and brought much of that history to life for us with his knowledge and his stories. As we sat on a broken piece of a marble column, listing to his tales, we realized that this could easily be a column that Julius Ceasar might have brushed against himself, in his days leading Rome. Crazy to think about, to be in these places that have been part of every history lesson we had growing up as children.

The tour included a later tour of the birthplace of Rome, the Forum and the place where Caesar was murdered. We were walked through the area by a man named Paul who originally came form Denver, Colorado. He'd been in Rome 13 years, studying the history of the birthplace of civilization, and brought much of that history to life for us with his knowledge and his stories. As we sat on a broken piece of a marble column, listing to his tales, we realized that this could easily be a column that Julius Ceasar might have brushed against himself, in his days leading Rome. Crazy to think about, to be in these places that have been part of every history lesson we had growing up as children.

We found the bus after that, and made our next stop the Vatican. After a long walk from the bus drop off, through the dozens of peddlars trying to sell you their wares, we ended up in Vatican City. One of my fondest hopes had been to see the Sistine chapel, and the statue of David, but the line up of people heading into the Vatican Museum must have been well over 500 people long, and stretched around the entire outside of the circle enclosing the Vatican. I am sure had we decided to push through for the museum tour, we'd have waited in line for 3 to 4 hours, and with that many people ahead of us, I am not sure what we'd have even seen inside. So we made the decision to let it pass, and started making our way back down to the bus stop. We were both getting pretty tired from all the walking, so decided to stop in one of the restaurants on that strip for a light lunch. The prices definitely reflected the tourist area we'd wandered into...but they had chairs, bathrooms and water. I was willing to pay for that!

We made it safely onto the train, after an easy drop off of the car and two hours of people watching at the railway station. The biggest challenge was standing waiting to board the train when it arrived, not realizing that we actually had to push a button to open the door. I wonder if the train would have pulled away without us, or if someone would have eventually helped us to figure things out had we not moved up to the front of the car and had a steward point it out to us. Regardless, we are on here now.

The sun would soon be setting soon, and the blinds were pulled mostly down on my side of the carriage, but through the far side window I could see mile after mile of olive trees, entwined with the endless stone fences that run among them. We guessed that it must be nearing the harvest time for the olives. The trees are all heavily laden, and every where is the smell of smoke as piles of trashy underbrush have been raked up and lit. It seems that in preparation, the land under and in between the trees has been raked clean, and the scrub burned. Our assumption was that the olives will fall to the ground and be gathered for processing, and though I'd intended to look into it further the process, as we were intrigued by it, I never did. It would also be interesting to see how big a role the olive industry plays in Italy's economy, as from what we had seen, it must be huge. Heading north along the coast, it seems that the ground is becoming more fertile and looks to be less stoney and more workable, although the buildings and stone fences remained the same for the time daylight allowed us to observe.

With a 5 hour train ride ahead of us and the sun will soon set, we settled in for the long ride. The TrenItalia train we were on didn't have wifi, so the options for killing time were limited. Luckily there were always books to be read on my Kindle, or the opportunity to grab a bit of shut eye. We knew it was going to be a whirlwind day the following one, because unfortunately we only had one day to see the sights of Rome. I always remember my Grandfather saying that it's too bad you can't bank sleep, grabbing a much of it when you can for use when there are things you really want to be doing. Grandpa was one of the wisest men I ever knew, and I remembered his words as I closed my eyes for a while. We made it safely to our hotel around 11pm, tired and ready for a good nights sleep. The Bettoja Hotel I had booked through Hotels.com was older, the room small, but was all we need for the little time we'd be spending there.We went to a little restaurant around the corner and had a late dinner of ravioli, and some type of beef that Cec ended up with when much to his disappointment they were out of salmon. By midnight we were both sleeping in prep for a busy day of touring Rome ahead of us.

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It's amazing how time gets lost when there are no firm commitments to honor, but we are still bad at just going with the flow. So many years of total structure and ensuring that all the little pieces that had to be in place day in and day out were. Wish I was better at letting that go, as we spent the morning figuring out what to do when. I guess it's the only way that we can ensure that each of our hopes and wishes are being met, one way or another. My working towards learning to be more care-free continues to be a work in progress.

At 10ish we headed down to the beach. I worked away at reading the rest of my book, Cec went for a long swim. I should have joined him, but the lack of hot water in our apartment was a hindrance. Salt in my hair meant a cold shower....when the breeze is cool, it dissuades you from wanting to endure that. After a couple of hours, we made our way back down the beach to the little stand that we ate at two days ago, but much to Cecil's disappointment, they were out of salmon, and instead he ended up with a panini that was filled with a version of pastrami.

Resort pool, pristine but closed to us.

That afternoon I actually finished my book and realized it is likely the first book that I have read that is just pure pleasure and fiction in years. I am always busying my time with books on wellness, spirituality, self-help, coaching, leadership.... all of which I enjoy immensely, but none that are purely just for the quiet enjoyment that I got from this one. I loved the opportunity to give myself the gift of getting lost in a good read, realizing it's been way too long. Then I have to ask myself why?We headed over to Alimini 1 at 2pm, hoping to catch the shop that is supposed to be there before the siesta break...again, no luck. I am not really sure the shop ever really opens. It is so bizarre to us as Canadians, to imagine that as we enjoy day after day of +26 weather, they have all but closed down around here because the season is over! There were only a handful of us at the huge resort. The pool was warm and beautiful, and we'd seen it being cleaned, but it was closed to us as well. Still, I kept telling myself, "I am here, it's southern Italy, and how lucky I am." With an open mind and heart, all is well.After two weeks in Europe, I had to admit that I was missing home just a little. The family, my king size bed, my familiarity. Although I didn't feel I was in a rush to get home, I didn't feel bad about my vacation coming to an end either. I think that makes me one of the very lucky ones.

We'd set the clock for 6am the next morning, and headed down to catch the sunrise. That day we got a spectacular view, as the clouds gave way to the glory of the eastern rising. We enjoyed it thoroughly, wondering why we didn't make this a part of our day to day life, rather than a rare occasion in a distant land. It was breathtaking and much more enjoyable because we'd remembered to take our towels and sweaters.

Visiting Otranto

The plan for the day was to explore Otranto. We'd been lost in the town a couple of times, but never really seen too much of it. Over morning coffee, I had read through the brochure that was given to us when we checked into the hotel, and decided to make sure that we saw both the remains of the castle as well as the Cathedral. We parked a few blocks away and were there in good time, prior to 9am. The streets were relatively calm, with many shops not yet even open as we began to explore the seaboard and the streets leading up to it. We continued to make our way along the marina wall until we found the outer shell of the castle. Once inside, it was like we'd walked into an entirely different town! The streets became even narrower, lined with shop upon shop selling all manner of souvenirs, jewelry, shoes, clothing, pastas and breads. There was little you couldn't find there, although many of the restaurants and shops were still closed. We walked to the end of the castle walls, then made our way back, stopping to check a few of the many shops for souvenir ideas, and local crafts. Pottery is a huge thing in the area, and many of the shops had walls and walls of cute chubby little pottery people, dressed in every kind of apparel. They were adorable, and several caught my eye, but the worry about how to get them home with out having them shatter convinced me to leave them where they were.

The entrance to the Cathedral in Otranto

After finishing most of the first street's sites, we took a walk upward, on another narrow winding street, not knowing where it lead, but curious to continue exploring. Half way up or so, we realized that we had found the Cathedral that I'd read about. We entered in, and found ourselves in a beautiful ancient structure. There wasn't a clear indication as to when it was built, but the Pantaleone Mosaic on the cathedral floor was to have been done by a monk from the Abbey of San Nicola di Casole between 1163 and 1166. His artistry depicted life of all kinds from that period, both mythological and real, as the floor was covered completely with symbols, animals, humans and what is likely the 'Tree of Life'. How painstakingly patient he must have been to place the tens of thousands of tiny tiles in their position as he created the artwork that remains today. When the Turks attacked Ontranto on August 14, 1480, many women and children took refuge in the Cathedral we stood in, but history tells that in the end the sanctuary was invaded, and most were killed. Over 800 people died trying to defend the town from the invasion, and in one small room on the right side of the church, glass cases house the bones and skulls of many of the murdered people, the men, women and the children. It's a chilling reminder to all of the brutality of war. There is an eeriness to spending time in such a place, as you think about the horror of their deaths, the lives unlived, the centuries between then and now. This is but one reminder of atrocities that have been committed when men pit themselves against men. You can't help but think about how the spirits of those who died live on in the history and architecture of this town, and so many other ancient towns like it. It's a reminder of the shortness of life...both theirs and our own. It makes you want to grab onto life with both hands and hold on tight, as all to soon it will be over.

Bones behind glass

I was left wondering how many dreams were sealed behind the glass with the bones of the dead. Then I had to ask myself what dreams have I put behind glass, not allowing them to breath and come to life. How long will I leave them there stagnant and protected, before I realize that the days are long, but the years are short, and the clock continues to tick.

What dreams do you have tucked behind glass yourself? When will you take them out, dust them off and bring them to life?

Italy was such an adventure for me. It's confirmed many of my dreams of what it would be like, but in other ways it has held a certain sadness...in how much garbage there is always found along the roadways, how frightening driving can be with so many determined, aggressive drivers sharing the highways, how much I don't understand because I didn't invest the time necessary to learn more of the language. But really, those are all small things compared to the joy of just actually being here, after so many years of imagining it.

Shane is never very far away, and often shows up in my dreams.

I found I would dream about Shane almost ever night here. I dream about him a lot at home as well, but these were different dreams. They were dreams that included the sadness and frustration of things that he could not do or enjoy. I wonder if it was because one thing I'd noticed so much was that in all likelihood if Shane were still here this would never be a place he could enjoy being himself. There is very little that is even moderately accessible, and maybe that is another part of the acceptance that I continue to walk through. Whatever the cause, there weren't many mornings where I've awoken and he's been very far away.

The Italian version of the red-cup...little pink ones to toast the setting sun.

The afternoon was pretty lazy. We wandered over to the #1 resort again in pursuit of the elusive mini-mart, once again didn't find it, then returned home and had a couple of ' almost warm' showers to get the sand out of our hair, then relaxed in the apartment. A nice change to some of the steady going that we'd had over the past couple of days. We relaxed at the apartment until 6pm then loaded our beach bag with some towels, wine and 'pink' red-cups, then headed down to catch the sunset. That night we had the beach all to ourselves, as the crowds had headed in for the day, so we found a sheltered place along the dunes and enjoyed the colors of the setting sun. It was nice to talk about hopes, dreams, passions. I am focusing on mine and wanted for Cecil to think about doing the same. Although he says he doesn't have any, I know that is not the case. He is just afraid to verbalize them I think, for fear they will either sound silly or unattainable..or maybe that he's dissatisfied with how things currently are. I try to keep explaining that we can be very, very happy with how things are, but still need to have a dream to move towards. It's those dreams and passions that keep us growing!It was a quiet night after that. Went back to another dinner of dried bread and cheese, a couple of glasses of wine and some hours spent on Pinterest as I try to keep building my plan for better social marketing to work towards my ideal life...that is just around the corner.

A view of the beautiful blues of the Adriatic Sea from Otranto, Italy.

Next morning we managed to catch the alarm and headed to the beach to try and capture the sunrise. I read on a quote that you should try to catch at least one sunrise a year, so I guess we tried, but it really wasn't much of one. There were very big clouds to the east, and they blocked what would likely have been a magnificent show. It was very cool out along the water, I was very glad that Cecil thought to bring a towel. We joked about 'City of Angels' as we sat there waiting for the day to begin, realizing neither of us can remember if the angels went to the water for sunrise or sunset, so I guess we'll have to take the time to watch i once again.

We headed back to the apartment after about an hour, had our coffee and decided it really was too early to get going, so went back for a nap for an hour or so prior heading back to the beach. On the beach there were a lot less people, but the lifeguard on duty was very determined that we sit in assigned seating. The wind was much stronger and although I didn't attempt to tackle the waves at all, Cec strode out into them after a while. However even he found they were too strong for him! We enjoyed an hour or two of just soaking up the sun, rare for either of us. While sitting there I did a bit of a meditation, enjoying how the rhythm of the waves moves along with my own breath. What kept surfacing for me was my need to continue clarifying my own passions, and building my life around those. I'd recorded them on my iphone, and made a commitment to myself to revisit where I'd left off and expand with my markers, building upon the passionate life I already get to enjoy. I promised myself that I'd walk the talk more fully with each new day. They were clearer for me and I knew we are well on our way moving in the right direction. After an hour of reading Mitch Albom's 'Time Keeper', we headed for a long walk down the beach in search of a vendor that might be still open to serve lunch. It was a long walk to find one, as most of this area was closing down after the summer season. It was amazing to us that so much of what we'd enjoyed is a season that only lasts from May until the end of September, yet the weather was still so gorgeous here, and the sea so warm. The question kept rising, what do people do for the other 7 or 8 months of the year when all of these resorts are closed down? The one we found had a limited menu, but we were able enjoy a Corona, a white wine, some freshly made Bruschetta and Cecil had a salmon panini that he said was one of the tastiest meals yet. It was a lovely view from the deck and we enjoyed the moment, closely watched over by a server who looked all the world like my friend Keith did when I first met him. Very uncanny!After a while, we made our way back to our own resort,and decided it was a good time to get out of the sun for a while. We remain two of the whitest species on the beach, but I know that spending more time there would only take me from white to red, not to the beautiful bronze that is displayed by so many others on the beach. It's a funny place here. Anything and everything goes as far as who wears what. I am beyond a doubt the most overdressed person along the stretch of sand, and though I look at so many around me knowing that if they can wear those small two piece outfits, I should be able to as well now, I have no desire to even try. My mother obviously raised me to be much too modest. I often do wish I were braver.

Welcome to My Passionate Life!

The Passion Test supports you to live your life more passionately, creating the life you dream of, doing the things you love! This space allows me to share some of my own passions with you, as I commit myself daily to always live my own passionate life! I hope that some of the experiences that following my passions have provided me will encourage you to also clarify our passions, then make choices that lead you to the passion filled life that is waiting for you!

My first love has always been music. Writing songs and putting words the my life experiences has brought me joy for as long as I can remember, I hope it will do the same for you. ALL MY MUSIC IS NOW AVAILABLE ON ​ ITUNES AS WELL AS CDBABY​ Please note, as part of my ongoing effort to raise money to support grief recovery and disability work, I am an affiliate for the products I promote, and may receive a commission.”“We are a participant in the Amazon Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon and affiliated sites.”Thank you Created by Lynda Dobbin-Turner, Proudly powered by Weebly